


Under Pressure

by MDA_Writings



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Banter, Bisexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom!Hotch, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Smut, brat taming, light degradation, reader simply cannot take orders, the smut got away from me oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25667023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDA_Writings/pseuds/MDA_Writings
Summary: As a newer member of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner intensely scrutinizes everything you do. When you have to track down a serial killer who uses bars and nightclubs as his hunting ground, Hotch decides to accompany you. Usually, he would leave the canvassing in the clubs to you, Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss, but he insists on coming along with you specifically. You and Hotch argue a lot. You frustrate one another... a lot.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 250





	Under Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> ok, so the reader is bisexual. if that bothers you... idk man get over it. i listen to sweater weather and i write from experience.

“Tell me more about this... what’d you call her? An unsub? And what’s this profile you need to share with me?” The young man across from you traces his finger around the rim of his glass.

“Unidentified subject,” you purr and lean your body close to his, “A profile is like a collection of traits the killer is likely to possess. She’s confident and forward. She wants you to notice her. Uniquely, she’ll be alone. She’s likely the traditional standard of a beautiful woman. It’s how she knows she can lure in male victims.”

“Confident, forward.” He looks around the club, “Alone.” He grins and rakes his eyes over your body, “Insanely attractive. How do I know you’re not the unsub?”

“I’m a federal agent.” You remind him and laugh flirtatiously, glancing down before back up into his eyes, “Do me a favor?” You bat your lashes at him.

“Anything.” He steps closer. You can see that you’ve got him hooked. He’ll listen to anything you say. You’re not sure how much he’s actually paying attention to the profile as he can’t seem to take his eyes off the neckline of your dress and your cleavage. At least he’ll remember the interaction.

“Pass these sketches around.” You hand him the police sketch, “It’s not much to go on but it could really help us... help me.” Aside from the way his eyes are trained on you, you can feel someone watching from behind the two of you. The man across from you smirks. His pupils dilate and he bites his lip. However, it doesn’t take a profiler to see that this man is attracted to you. Your silly little flirtations are working. You snake your fingers into his belt loops, pulling him flush against you, “So you’ll help me?”

“Anything for you. You sure I can’t buy you a drink?” He gestures to the bartender who comes walking over. He places a gentle hand on your arm. If you weren’t on duty you would’ve taken him up on the offer. “A pretty girl like you deserves a drink for all your hard work in the FBI.”

You smile and shake your head. You open your mouth to protest but a voice from behind cuts you off, “Unfortunately for you, she’s on duty.” Hotch soon comes up close behind you, interrupting the conversation. You can feel his body behind yours. “Just share that picture and profile with any of your friends and other people here.”

The man glances at your boss. Hotch’s towering height of over 6 feet intimidates the younger man. “Guess you’re not alone.” He looks at Hotch and then back at you. At least he remembered something about the profile you told him. You press your lips firmly together. You whirl around to face Hotch, not realizing how close he is.

Your body is suddenly pressing against his, “What was that?” You cross your arms and clench your jaw tightly, grinding your teeth out of anger.

From the moment you started at the BAU, Agent Hotchner was always looking over your shoulder. The first few weeks were tough. He questioned every decision you made. He wouldn’t let you go anywhere or do anything without another team member. He repeatedly reminded you that the BAU took a certain type of agent and that you needed to prove to him that you were the right type of agent.

The worst was when you made a mistake during one of your first cases. The team had gotten an address for the unsub. You had been at the coroner’s office, examining the most recent body for more clues about the unsub’s compulsions. Reid had one of his boy genius breakthroughs, getting the team all the information to find the killer. Hotch had directly ordered you to meet them at the address but wait for back up. Once you got to the house, you knew you couldn’t wait.

You remember bursting through the door, gun raised. You were right to go in. The man had his gun raised to the young girl’s head. A few more minutes and she would’ve been dead. You tried to talk him down. It wasn’t long before he turned the gun on you. That’s when the rest of the team arrived. The next thing you knew, Hotch put three bullets in him. You had saved a girl, but you had gone against Hotch’s direct orders. That was like a 15 out of 10 on the Hotch scale.

“Not only did you disobey my direct order, but you endangered that young girl’s life and you stupidly, unnecessarily risked your own. Are you so insanely headstrong that you can’t learn to cooperate and work with the rest of the team? By making that choice you put everyone at risk. When you’re in the field we’re responsible to and for each other. We are a team,” Hotch rattled off.

“I won’t do it again,” you said softly.

“No, you won’t. You’re on probation Agent Y/L/N. From now on every decision, every thought, every idea, every move you make must be approved by me,” he breathed shakily and crossed his arms. You shrunk in embarrassment from your spot on the edge of the ambulance. “Do you understand me?”

You could feel the heat rising through your cheeks and up into your ears. You could barely look at Hotch. You could only nod. That didn’t seem to be enough for him.

“I said, do you understand me, Agent?” he repeated, stern and slow like you were dumb. He spoke to you as if you couldn’t comprehend English.

“I understand, Sir,” your hoarse voice trembled.

From that moment on, you always felt scrutinized under Hotch’s glare. Even now, after a few months with the BAU, Hotch still keeps a close eye on you.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, despite the shitty treatment you received. He wasn’t always an ass. He could be kind and caring, but it was hard to get out of him. Occasionally he’d crack a small smile as you and Morgan teased Reid on the jet. He would try his best to hide it, burying his face deeper into a case file or narrowing his eyes at the report he was writing, but you could see the small grin teasing at his lips. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

“You’re here to work.” Hotch watches the man you talked to, keeping his eyes focused on him until he disappeared in the crowded bar. Once he’s out of sight, Hotch glances down at you.

“That’s what I’m doing.” You signal the bartender for a glass of water. The club is hot and humid, the bodies packed close together on the dance floor. You had already talked to about 20 different men and women, all of whom had to stand immensely close to hear you over the loud music.

“You were flirting with him.” Hotch shakes his head, scanning the crowd one more time before turning to lean against the bar next to you.

“It got him to listen to the profile, didn’t it?” You shrug, taking a long gulp of water.

It was out of character for Hotch to come along for canvassing work like this. Usually, he would leave you, Morgan, Prentiss, Reid, and JJ to handle club and bar scenes. But Hotch didn’t want you to be alone. Morgan offered to join you in the club but there were multiple locations you all needed to cover that night. You assume he only offered in the hopes of seeing you make a mistake or do something he disapproved of. He was always looking for reasons to tell you off.

Hotch’s eyes scan across the crowded bar, “How many numbers?”

“What?” You finish off your glass of water and step back from the bar, smoothing out your tight dress. You are itching to get back into your comfortable work clothes. The dress clings to every inch of your body. Not to mention it doesn’t even come close to concealing the gun strapped to your thigh.

Hotch turns his attention back to you. You swear you catch him scanning your body, but he plays it off as he averts his eyes towards other people in the bar. “How many numbers have you gotten tonight?” You see a small smile teasing at his lips. “And I mean both men and women.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “Men and women?” You grin, “What happened to not profiling one another?”

“Oh come on, you think it takes a profiler to figure that out?” He’s fully smiling now, a rare event for Hotch. “Prentiss wears a low cut top and you can’t stop looking throughout the entire briefing.”

“I do not!” you scoff, the flush on your cheeks deepening at your embarrassment, “I am not into Emily. I’m not into–into anyone on the team.” You shake your head at your stuttering and glance away, “We should hand out all of these.”

You push away from Hotch and attempt to put some distance between the two of you. His overbearing presence frustrates you. It’s not long before you’re talking to another man further into the club. You look around a few times, hoping that Hotch doesn’t interrupt you again.

“So you think you can keep an eye out for this woman… for me?” You pout your lips as you look up at the young man.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” He nods and grins down at you. “How about a drink?”

“Can’t drink. I’m on duty, remember?” You reach for your badge again, flashing it towards him.

“I’ve never been with a cop before.” He closes the gap between your bodies.

“I’m not a cop.” You correct him, “Federal. Agent.” You tap on his chest with each word. You smirk up at him playfully, “Just hand out some of those sketches, share the profile with your friends. Call me if you see anything.” You hand him your card.

“And if I don’t see anything?” He snakes a hand down to your waist, around to your lower back. He pulls you in close. His hand starts to drift down towards your ass, gripping it, “Can I call you then?”

“Unfortunately no.” You force a small laugh. You try to push him away gently but he’s tall and strong and very drunk.

“You sure?” He bends down, pushing your hair to the side. “How about you come with me? You show me your gun and I’ll show you mine.” His words make you cringe. Gross. You place your hands firmly on his chest.

“No thank you,” you repeat louder. You’re just about to push him away when two large hands grip the back of his shirt, yanking him away from you.

“She said no,” Hotch growls and shoves the kid, “Now go.”

You smooth out your dress as the drunken kid stumbles away screaming lines of expletives at Hotch, “Thanks,” you stutter out.

Hotch watches the kid walk away from you, making sure he’s disappeared before turning his attention on you. His brows are intensely furrowed (when aren’t they) and he scowls down at you. Like always, his cold, anger-filled glare sends chills down your spine. You feel yourself shrinking under his view and pull your bottom lip between your teeth

“I told you that you shouldn’t be flirting with them,” he scolds, “It’s going to get you hurt or worse. Just do your job.”

“I was doing my job.” Your confidence begins to surge back, “And I didn’t need your help, I had it all under control.”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Hotch’s sarcastic tone cuts through you like a knife. Something about his biting words and disapproving glare builds a fire inside of you.

“I’m so tired of you babying me and treating me like I need to be supervised. I’ve proven myself capable plenty of times,” you huff out your words and push through the crowded dance floor.

“I’m not babying you.” Hotch follows close behind you.

“So why did you even come with me in the first place? You think I’m not capable of alerting people of the profile?” Once you reach the bar again you whip around to face him.

“No, Y/N—”

“God, you’re so- so irritating, so frustrating!” You throw your hands up, “I get it. You’re scared about someone getting hurt. Newsflash Hotch, I have a gun and years of FBI training,” You can feel your heart pounding in your ears. Your face is warm with anger.

Just as Hotch opens his mouth to speak again, you’re fired up again, “Did you follow me to make sure I did things right? Because I can’t be trusted? Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

“I didn’t want to condone you coming here and letting all these men put their hands on your body, and for– for what? For this case?” Hotch’s anger level rises to match yours. He’s clenching fists and you can see the cords on his neck standing out.

“Morgan flirts with women all the time to get information. What the fuck is your problem with me?” You finally snap at him.

“I don’t have a problem with you,” Hotch rubs his forehead, feeling a headache coming on at your insubordination and arguing.

“Sure fucking seems like you do,” you mutter under your breath. When you finally look up at Hotch he’s searching your face, that signature frown set into his brows. What happens next is completely unexpected.

Hotch grips your arm and pulls you to him, his lips connecting with yours passionately. Your body is flush against his as his hands cup your cheeks roughly. You need more. You bunch up his suit in your small fists. His tongue hungrily invades your mouth. “Do you ever shut up?” He growls out against your lips breathlessly.

A million sarcastic comments run through your brain but all you can think about is his lips on yours. His hands on your body. You lean in again to kiss him but feel him pulling away. Just as quickly as it starts, it ends. He places a hand over his mouth.

Your pulse is racing. All you can manage to do is stand there staring at Hotch in shock, your mouth agape. As soon as you begin to recollect your thoughts Hotch’s phone rings.

He brings it up to his ear, “Hotchner.” He doesn’t even look at you again. He just disappears into the crowd, his phone close to his ear, and heads out the exit.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper to yourself as you hurry to follow close behind Hotch.

Hotch puts the phone on speaker once you’re both outside. “Morgan, you’ve got me and Y/L/N here on speaker.”

“Bartender saw a woman matching the unsub’s description a few minutes ago outside smoking with a young guy named William. Reid and I have been searching all over but they must’ve left.” You can hear how out of breath Morgan is, assuming he’s been running around after the unsub.

“Do we have an ID on the unsub?” Hotch barks into the phone. He nods towards the SUV and you hurry to get in.

“Garcia’s working on it based on the credit cards she uses at the bar,” Reid speaks up from the background.

The phone beeps a few times and Garcia soon joins in on the call, “I have a name and address, we have a Sarah Roberts, lives at 936 South Olive Street, apartment 8C.”

“Garcia, tell JJ, Prentiss, and Dave to meet us at the apartment,” Hotch rattles off the commands, “We’ll meet them there. Morgan and Reid stay at the bar. We know she’ll be back there to dump the body, let’s hope we get to her before that.”

The ride back to the location is quiet. You fidget with your hands uncomfortably. Hotch seems unaffected by what just happened between you two. He has returned to his stoic, focused, and so fucking handsome, resting face. Except for every few seconds, he wrings his hands around the steering wheel. He shifts in his seat a little. And once or twice, you can feel his eyes on you for a second when you’re not looking.

After a few minutes, you reach around into the back for your go-bag. You pull out your vest and gun and your clothes. You unzip the back of your dress quickly, kick off your heels, and reach for your shirt.

Hotch glances over but you see him frantically look away. “You have to be careful once we get there.”

“I’ve been here for months. I know how to apprehend a suspect,” you scoff and slide the dress off your body. You reach for a hair tie and throw your hair up, unbothered by your lack of clothes in front of your boss.

“I’m just saying you have a history of being unpredictable,” he states again before looking over at you as you undress.

You pull on the pants and shirt before strapping on your FBI vest and holstering your gun, “Eyes on the road, boss,” you can’t help but smile. Hotch, however, doesn't laugh but slowly pulls his attention away from you.

“You follow my lead once we get there. You’re going to stay back,” Hotch commands, “That’s an order agent,” You can hear the disappointment in his voice. When will you ever be good enough at your job for him? And he thinks he can just kiss you and push it all away, just to go back to treating you like shit?

As you and Hotch jump from the SUV, he knocks a few times on the apartment door before busting down the door. The two of you run in, setting your sights on the half-naked man tied to the chair. The female unsub holds a knife to his neck.

“You come any closer and I slit his throat from ear to ear,” her voice is trembling. She’s unsure of herself. You follow Hotch’s orders and stay behind him.

“Please, just put down the knife,” Hotch takes a few steps into the house. Your heart is racing as she moves the knife to gesture at the two of you.

“They all did something to me!” she cries. She returns the knife to the man’s neck. Her eyes watering as her hand with the knife shakes by the man’s neck, “With their secret looks and secret jokes and their— their secrets!”

“Look at me, Sarah.” You attempt to calm her down, “We just want to help you.” You feel Hotch’s eyes boring into you. He specifically told you to follow his lead, but you’ve figured out what makes this woman tick. You know how to talk her down.

“You’re just like all those other whores, stealing what isn’t yours!” The woman screams at you.

“I’m not stealing anything. I’m a victim just like you.” You nod at her and lower your gun.

“Y/L/N,” Hotch warns. You can feel the anger boiling out of him for disrespecting his orders but he keeps a calm face so as not to set off the unsub.

“See? I don’t want to hurt you.” You put your gun in the holster, “Someone like him cheated on you… right?”

You see the woman falter slightly. Her harsh demeanor cracks and you see it as your way in, “You don’t understand.” She shakes her head, “You can’t just use your body to get everything!”

“I-I know what it’s like to lose someone you love to someone else. I had a husband once,” You nod, slowly making your way towards the woman, “Hurting people won’t fix the pain. It won’t fix the blame that you’re putting on yourself. It’s time to let go,” you hold your hand out, “Give me the knife. I promise, no one is going to hurt you like that again.”

She nods slightly and turns to you. You reach your hand out for her to put the knife into it. You feel a rush of relief. But then it happens. It’s a blur. She slices your forearm, shots ring out, she collapses. You press your hand to arm, screaming out slightly as the searing pain spreads across your arm. “We need a medic!” You can hear Hotch calling to you as he moves to handcuff the woman. “Y/L/N? You okay?”

You wince at the pain but it doesn’t deter you from your job. You quickly move to attempt to untie the man but your injured arm feels weak and it begins to tremble. Hotch’s strong hands grip your shoulders and pull you away, “You need to get medical attention.” He commands as he hands you off to two paramedics. EMTs, police, the other agents rush around you as the paramedics walk you to an ambulance, loading you onto a gurney.

As the chaos of the arrest begins to die down, you keep your eyes trained on your bloodied hands. “The wound is deep so you’ll need stitches.” The paramedic's voice feels distant as he wraps gauze around your arm. You know you’ve fucked up, yet again. You’re just waiting for Hotch to come and reprimand you. That’s when you see him walking up. Oh god, and it’s Deja Vu. You’re sitting in an ambulance and Hotch is about to yell at you. Great.

“Is she going to be alright?” he speaks mostly to the paramedic.

“Need to take her in for stitches now. Don’t want her to lose too much blood,” the paramedic nods and moves to start lifting your gurney.

Hotch then looks to you, “You did good in there, you established rapport… shared personal experience to empathize. You should’ve followed my orders though. I knew you would anger her I—”

“Sir, we really should get her to the hospital to stitch that up,” the paramedics reach to close the ambulance doors. You see Hotch open his mouth again to say something more but stops himself. The doors close on Hotch’s stressed and angry face. You let out a sigh of relief. Anything to delay Hotch’s wrath. You watch Hotch shrink in the distance through the small window on the doors as the ambulance drives away.

* * *

You fumble with your hotel card and it clatters to the floor. You bend down to pick it up when Hotch’s voice startles you. You clutch your chest at the surprise, “Let me help.” He walks over and picks the card up, unlocking the door for you, “I thought Reid was waiting with you at the hospital.” He opens the door and holds it for you.

“I sent him back here. He looked exhausted.” You smile softly and pick up your go bag but Hotch takes it from your hand. He follows you in and closes the door behind him. You start talking immediately, not willing to give him a chance to tell you off, “Look if you want to lecture me about the arrest, I’m way too tired to deal with that tonight after everything. My arm is in pain, my head hurts, I feel disgusting. I just want to relax.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Hotch puts your bag down on the bed.

There’s a short pause before he says exactly what you’re expecting him to say, “However, what you did was completely against my orders, which isn’t surprising. Insubordination is something I expect from you.” He lets out a long breath and crosses his arms across his chest. You grind your teeth at his behavior. Without saying a word to him, you cross the room and begin to rifle through your bag for clothes.

“That story about your husband,” Hotch attempts to interrupt your actions as you reach to take off your shoes, “The marriage isn’t in your personnel file.”

“I lied.” You let the shoes clatter to the floor loudly. Your hands go to your belt and you begin to undo it.

“You lied to our unsub to get the job done? I can’t condone that—”

“Jesus fuck Hotch, I covered up the marriage so the agency didn’t uncover it.” You turn back to look at him, the curses flowing from your mouth without thinking. You don’t even stop to think about how you just cursed at your boss, who’s already pissed at you, “I got a tech expert to wipe the records of my marriage. Didn’t want all my coworkers prying.”

“I’m sorry,” Hotch eyes you as you reach for the buttons on your shirt and he turns around, averting his gaze, “Strauss is going to be on your ass over this.”

“I know. I can handle it,” You dig around in your bag looking for a comfy shirt. You let out a groan at the soreness in your arm.

Hotch glances over at you for a second but turns away again when he sees your top off, “Do you need any help with anything around here? Packing up your bags?”

“Can we just—” You sigh and walk around so you can look Hotch in the eyes, “Can we cut the crap for a second?”

“Excuse me?” Hotch’s voice is strong and commanding but his discomfort is evident as he struggles to meet your gaze, his eyes wandering over your body.

“You can’t just storm around here, treating me like I’m incompetent and then kiss me and expect me to say nothing about it.” You call him out. You’re tired of the on and off today. One minute he’s kissing you in a bar, the next he’s reprimanding you, then he’s watching you change in the van, then he’s reprimanding you again, now he can’t even look you in the eyes as your dress shirt hangs around your shoulders, completely unbuttoned.

“That was completely inappropriate of me, I let my emotions—”

“You let your emotions out for once in your life Hotch. God! Could you be any less human?” You throw your hands up in protest.

“Now, Y/L/N that’s not fair—”

“What’s not fair is treating me like a yo-yo. You reprimand me and make me feel like I have to walk on eggshells around you and then the next minute you’re laughing and flirting like I’m some girl you met in a bar.”

“I have to be your boss and I have to tell you when you do things wrong. It’s part of the job if you can’t handle—”

“I can handle the scolding, but if you want to kiss me or flirt with me or I don’t know fuck me, I’d like a little more say in the matter.” At your harsh honesty, Hotch’s face changes dramatically. His brows relax and his jaw goes slack for a second. You’ve shocked him. But he’s Hotch, so he recovers his stoic, judgemental gaze.

“Y/L/N, I’m your boss you can’t—” You open your mouth to cut him off again but Hotch raises his voice, not giving you the chance, “Will you let me speak for one second without cutting me off? God, you’re insufferable!” Hotch rubs his forehead frustratedly.

Your mouth remains slightly agape. You’ve never had Hotch yell at you. He’s always more like a disappointed parent lecturing you when you’ve done something wrong. Hardly do you hear him raise his voice.

“What? No smart ass responses?” Hotch scoffs. There’s something about the way his chest rises and falls rapidly with his anger. The way that his tie hangs loosely around his neck and his face flushes. You take one good look at him before you’re pulling him by the tie, pressing your body close to his and smashing your lips against his.

Within seconds, the two of you are barreling backward towards the bed, shedding clothes as you go. Your hands fumble with his jacket as your back hits the mattress. You pull his jacket off, kick your shoes off and rip the tie from around his neck in seconds. Hotch is equally desperate and harsh with you, yet he’s gentle and caring at the same time. His kisses are hungry, but his large hands roam your body, groping and squeezing gently.

Just as you let out a soft moan he pulls away fro a second, “Your arm,” he pants out before bending his head back down to kiss under your jaw.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you moan loudly and pull his mouth back to yours. It’s sloppy and needy but you don’t care. You’re not thinking about anything but the feeling of his soft lips traveling down your body.

Hotch gently nips and sucks at the soft skin under your jaw and down your neck. His hands reach around you for your bra and you arch your back making room for his hands to work on undoing the clasp.

“This is inappropriate Agent Hotchner. You’re letting your emotions out.” You tease him through a moan as his hands start to massage your breasts.

“You are such a _brat_ ,” He growls out that last word and you can feel the heat pooling rapidly between your legs.

You pant as his mouth dips to suck on your nipple, “I’m a what?” Your smile grows wider.

Aaron moans against your skin, “Such a fucking brat.” He dips back down turning his attention to your other nipple, sucking and licking. His tongue swirls around the pebbled skin and you throw your head back. He trails his lips to the top of your jeans and unbuckled them, pushing them down your legs with your panties. “You never listen to anything I say.” He takes a moment to look over your body, a wicked smile spreading across his lips as he does.

“God, you’re torturing me,” you groan as he parts your legs, planting kisses up your thighs. That’s when he stills slightly.

“No more bratty behavior,” He moves up to hover above you, bending down. You think he’s leaning in to kiss you again but he bends to whisper softly in your ear, “I’m in charge here. Now you shut your mouth until I tell you to open it, is that clear agent?”

You close your mouth and give a small nod.

“Good girl,” He smirks and plants a few kisses along your jaw as he parts your legs further with his knee.

His mouth travels down and down until his head is between your legs. He places soft, gentle kisses along your thighs before glancing back up at you with a smirk. You’re aching for him to touch you, soft whines erupting from you as his lips and hands roam everywhere but your dripping wet pussy.

“Will you just-” You let out frustratedly eliciting a small chuckle from Hotch.

“What happened to those orders I gave you?” You knew Hotch would be demanding and dominant but experiencing it flusters you. You can feel your whole body heat up as you look down at his face between your thighs.

“S-Sorry,” you stutter out. Stuttering? This man is really doing a number on you.

“Now tell me what you want,” he lazily runs his fingers up the inside of your thigh, just ghosting ever so lightly over your soaked lips. You hiss with pleasure.

“I want you to,” You pause. Suddenly you’re embarrassed and flustered. There’s something about the way he’s grinning up at you, proud of the control he has gained over you. Sure, he’s had control over you in the past as your boss, but you always argue with him, tease him, give him a hard time. Now, he’s utterly delighted to see you a whining, incoherent mess just with the slightest touch.

“I can’t continue until you tell me what you want.” He pulls his soaked finger to his lips, licking your juices off of it.

“I want your mouth on my pussy,” you whine out, squirming on the mattress.

Hotch mumbles a soft ‘good girl’ as he buries his head between your thighs giving you just what you need. His tongue expertly licks and swirls your clit. And you’re a fucking writhing, simpering mess under his touch. You involuntarily buck your hips and his strong, warm hand comes up to hold your hips in place.

“Oh fuck just-” You can’t form a single coherent thought. Your thighs tighten around his head and your body feels red hot. You tighten your hands in the sheet, moans erupting as two of his fingers tease your entrance. That elicits a loud moan and you can see the smug grin growing on his face.

The room is filled with the messy noises of Hotch's mouth and your uncontrollable moans. The air is sticky and humid from your panting and sweating. You tangle your fingers in his hair, roughly tugging and tousling his neatly gelled black locks.

He sucks your clit, finally thrusting the two fingers inside you. Your eyes flutter closed and you feel the pressure between your hips growing by the second. “Oh god, fuck, fuck,” You’re chanting curses and inhuman noises as you squirm under his ministrations. “Fuck _Aaron_.” You moan his name loudly. He’s always been Hotch to you. but at this moment his name just rolls off your tongue in a loud moan. Just as you’re about to orgasm he stops his movements.

You wait a moment, expecting him to start up again but he doesn’t. You open your eyes and sit up, leaning back on your elbows, “What the fuck?”

Aaron looks up at you with that fucking smirk playing on his lips, “Do you know how much of a brat you’ve been today? How much frustration you’ve caused me?” He unbuttons his shirt at his wrists, pulling it off.

You close your mouth and give a small shake of your head.

“Brats like you deserve a punishment.” His hands work to unbuckle his belt. His hands loop around his pants and boxers pulling them down. You can’t even speak as you take in every single glorious naked inch of him. He chuckles softly as your eyes settle on his rock hard cock. “You see what you do to me? Do you know how frustrated you make me every single fucking day?”

At this point, he’s hovering over you, his lips inches from yours. You finally speak up. “So you’re not going to let me come?”

“Oh, you’re going to come.” He scoops one arm under you and flips you both over so you’re on top, every inch of your exposed skin on his. You feel his erection against your stomach, your hands pressed flat against his solid chest, “But you get to come when I want you to. I want you _begging_ me to orgasm.”

Somehow, this man has managed to render you speechless multiple times in the past few minutes. “Do I make myself clear?” He speaks clearly and firmly, while his hand travels up and down your bare back.

“Yes Sir,” your words come out in a moan.

“Now be a good girl and tell me what you want,” Aaron kisses you lightly, his fingertips trailing over your arms.

“I want you to fuck me,” you respond breathlessly. Aaron roughly flips you again.

“On your hands and knees,” he commands. You get on your hands and knees, knowing you probably look a mess: hair tousled, face flushed, legs spread, ass up, pussy out, just waiting to be fucked. Aaron doesn’t take long. He hovers behind you, placing a firm hand on your hip. You’re practically melting with anticipation.

“Please Aaron,” you’re putty under his touch. “I need you to fuck me. I need your cock.” Your words stir up another laugh out of Aaron. He parts your legs further, running a finger between your folds, collecting up some of your juices on his finger.

“So fucking wet, all for me,” He reaches around to your mouth, shoving his fingers in, “Taste how fucking wet you are.” You moan around his fingers. Just as you lick his fingers clean, his hands are tightly gripping your hips and he’s pressing himself up against your entrance. You groan loudly in response.

You suck around his fingers as he thrusts himself fully into you, his cock stretching and filling you in the most amazing way. “I want to hear you scream,” He bends down to groan next to your ear before planting a few kisses to your shoulders. His initial pace is agonizingly slow, his cock dragging along every inch of you before he buries himself back in.

“More,” you groan out and suddenly you’re regretting giving him direction. His hand runs up your back and tangles itself in your hair, yanking your head back.

“You want more?” Aaron’s voice is low and gravelly as he fucks you harder. The feeling of his cock burying deeper inside you, hitting your cervix with force, reduces you to curses and moans once again. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this just to shut you up?” He releases your head roughly, using both hands to grip your hips with bruising strength.

He reaches around to touch your clit, rubbing small circles and your limbs go weak. Your arms give out from under you, face burying into the sheets. Aaron doesn’t let up, his pace unrelenting, his hips slamming against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He scoops an arm under your body, yanking your torso back up against his. The pleasure is overwhelming and you feel your eyes practically rolling back in your head. His hand palms your breast, the other hand still rolling and rubbing at your clit.

“Aaron, please I need to come,” your voice wavers uncontrollably as that familiar knot of pressure builds in your stomach and between your hips.

You clench your walls tightly around him eliciting the sexiest groan out of him. He mumbles into your ear, “You can come, baby.”

It doesn’t take much more for you to come hard around his cock, your legs shaking and eyes watering. You can’t seem to get out any sounds besides some incomprehensible screams and curses. As your body goes limp, Aaron continues to hold you against him, continuing his thrusts until he’s groaning behind you, cock pulsing inside your warmth as he releases. As he rides out his orgasm, he manages to let you down gently on the mattress.

Aaron pulls out of you and you can’t help but audibly whimper at the sensitivity of your body. You don’t move much but curl up on the sheets, out of breath, and utterly exhausted. “Y/N?” Aaron somehow still has the energy to sit up against the headboard next to you.

“Mhm,” you hum out and flip to look at him. That wicked grin has now faded to a much softer, kinder smile.

“Wait here,” He leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. The contrast is shocking to you. For a man with a reputation as the seemingly emotionless unit chief of the BAU, he has shown you a wide variety of sides tonight.

“I don’t think I have the strength to go anywhere,” you tease and watch Aaron get up off the bed and walk into the bathroom. You smirk as your eyes remain on his toned bottom.

He soon returns with a washcloth and nods at you, “Flip over.” His words are less of a command, the timbre of his voice soft and soothing. He runs the cool cloth over your body, cooling you down and cleaning the mess of fluids from your skin.

“You put your briefs on,” you pout when he finishes up and slides next to you on the mattress. You lazily slide your bare legs under the sheets, the cool fabric contrasting with your sticky, hot body.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He reaches for your bandaged arm, looking it over, brows furrowing.

Your eyes are fluttering closed and you curl up in the bed, “I’m fine, Hotch.”

“Oh, so it’s back to Hotch now?” His arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “I have my hands on your naked body and you’re going to call me Hotch?” His hand moves to trace your arm, his fingertips feather-light on your skin.

“Sorry,” you tease and turn your head to look at him.

“I like the sound of Aaron coming from those lips.” His hair is a mess. A few strands hang over his face and you reach to push them back.

“Glad to know we frustrate one another equally.” Aaron’s laugh rings out through the room at your comment. It’s infectious. You smile, joining in on his laughter. “I plan on continuing to give you a hard time, just so you know.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” You’ve never seen Aaron smile this much in… well ever. You can’t pull your eyes away from the joy on his face. Your heart warms to know you can bring the man such happiness. He kisses your forehead, “Just as long as you expect more punishment for it.”

“Looking forward to it… Aaron.”

**Author's Note:**

> is it possible for me to write a hotch fic that doesn't end in smut? unclear. this fic was all over the place but i hope you enjoyed reading nonetheless! i have about 3 more of these hotch fics planned but if anyone has any ideas/requests feel free to drop them in the comments. i love reading comments and seeing feedback :)


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